A Meeting in the Corridor
by Emmarlene
Summary: Draco invites Hermione to meet him after Potions class. Updated, now a two-shot. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. **

Hermione gave her potion a last glance, hurriedly checking her textbook. Light blue-purple colour? Check. No steam? Check. Small bubbles around the edge, but none in the middle? Check and check. Satisfied, she carefully ladled some of it into the crystal vial that set on the edge of her table. After she stoppered it, she allowed herself to relax slightly.

_Well, that wasn't too bad_, she thought, glancing around the classroom. She was the first one finished, as always. It wasn't as if she would settle for anything less.

Snape was prowling around the classroom, thankfully occupied with the Slytherins on the other side of the dungeon – Goyle had somehow managed to set his potion _on fire_ – so the Gryffindors were spared his sneers for the moment.

She turned around and bumped into Ron. She stumbled, and the vial nearly slipped out of her grip before she righted herself.

"Ron!" she exclaimed furiously, "What are you doing? I almost dropped my potion!"

"Well, maybe you should watch where you're going, Hermione," Ron retorted, "And it's not as though you don't have spare potion in your cauldron."

They glared at each other for a moment, before Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Remembering his recent outbursts about their arguments, Hermione bit her lip.

"Sorry," she muttered, "I guess I'm just a little nervous."

"Well, that's alright, I guess," Ron noticed Harry's pointed glance, "And sorry, as well. Even though, you know, I don't really see the big deal –"

Hermione sniffed and headed towards the front of the room. Sometimes Ron was just _infuriating_.

She had just placed her vial on the table when she heard someone behind her.

"It's _fine, _Ron," she sighed, not looking around.

"Problems with Weasley, Granger?" drawled a familiar voice.

"It's none of your business, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, turning around. Draco was standing right behind her, blocking her way to her seat.

"Well, if you're tired of Weasley, I can help you," He moved closer to her, and whispered in her ear, "Meet me in the third-floor corridor by the painting of the Emerald Lady after class. It'll be just the two of us. I've got a surprise for you."

He moved past her, and placed his vial next to hers. "I'll see you around, Granger," he called as he headed back to his seat.

Hermione stared after him, speechless. _What?_

Draco returned to the Slytherin common room, ignoring Pansy chattering by his side. He had other things on his mind. Things like Hermione.

Hermione Granger. The bossy, incredibly intelligent, Muggleborn witch. He remembered back to her wide, brown eyes as he whispered in her ear, the way her frizzy hair was twisted up into a ponytail to keep it in check. He hoped that she took up his invitation – their meeting would be something she wouldn't forget in a hurry.

He dropped his books off in his dormitory, and then returned to the corridors. He didn't bother to tell Crabbe or Goyle where he was going; they were preparing for detentions with McGonagall.

Draco climbed up the four flights of stairs, cutting through concealed shortcuts in his haste. To his disappointment, the corridor was empty when he arrived. _She'll come soon, he_ thought, and settled in to wait.

Hermione clambered though the portrait hole, her mind full of Draco. _Should I… why did he…?_ Her mind was a jumble. Leaving Harry and Ron, she climbed up to her dormitory.

Draco Malfoy. The snide, high-and-mighty, pureblood wizard. It wasn't as though they hadn't talked before – she distinctly remembered a conversation in third year which had ended with a slap – but they'd never been _alone_.

_Why would he want to meet me?_ She carefully placed her book-bag onto her bed. The way he looked at her, had leaned in close, had whispered softly in her ear… _Stop it, Hermione_, she thought sharply, but her mind continued regardless.

_Maybe he's changed. Maybe he wants to apologise. Privately._ That made more sense than the alternative.

She stared off into space, considering her options. To go, or to stay?

In the end, her curiosity got the better of her. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table, and was startled to see how much time had passed. She hurried down the stairs and across the common room, not stopping to. Rushing through the castle, her only thought was, _what if he's gone?_

Draco leaned back against the wall, turning his head slightly to peer out the window next to him. _She'll come soon. She _has _to._ He watched a flock of birds fly over the lake, and wondered why she was taking so long.

_Ten more minutes. She'll be here by then._ He fidgeted, glancing up and down the deserted corridor. It wasn't used much at this time of day, but when everyone was heading down to dinner, it would be a popular short-cut.

_Hermione, where are you? _

Hermione dashed down the last flight of stairs, ignoring the startled looks she received. Slowing her pace, she hesitated before the corner to the corridor. She remembered his eyes, shining brightly despite the dungeon's gloom, and felt slightly apprehensive. _What am I doing?_ _What if he…_ _if he wants… No. Be brave, Hermione, you're a Gryffindor!_

She took a deep breath and rounded the corner.

Draco straightened up as he heard the sound of footsteps. First running, then slowing, then nothing. He held his breath. _Is that her?_

Then the footsteps started again and Hermione entered the corridor. Draco bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself smiling. _Finally. Perfect._

Hermione walked slowly towards Draco, arms crossed nervously over her chest.

He broke the silence first, "Afternoon, Hermione. Nice of you to come, eventually."

_He used my name!_ For the first time that she could remember, Malfoy – Draco – had used her first name. She felt a strange mix of elation and worry.

"Sorry, Ma—Draco," she corrected herself. _He's probably just being polite._ "I lost track of the time."

"Well, that happens to the best of us, I guess," Draco replied condescendingly.

For a moment, he sounded just like Ron. Hermione's temper flared up again. "So, why am I here?" she snapped, "What's this surprise?"

She felt a brief second of guilt as his smile faltered. "Well, seeing as you asked so nicely…" Draco muttered and reached into his robes.

When he pulled out his wand, she reacted instinctively.

"_Protego!"_

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_

Draco's spell reflected off Hermione's Shield Charm, smashing into the window next to them, causing glass to shower down around them. Draco gaped at her, "What–". Hermione didn't hesitate.

_"Stupefy!_"

Her Stunning spell hit him in the chest, and he slid limply to the floor.

Hermione glanced up and down the corridor, her mind in a whirl. _That… that… urgh! How _dare _he!_ At the moment the corridor was empty, but soon it would fill with students hurrying to dinner. _Bloody Slytherins.  
_

She glared at the wreckage of the window. "_Reparo!" _she said sharply, flicking her wand at the broken glass on the floor. She watched as it zoomed back to the window frame, fitting perfectly together.

_That's half of the evidence dealt with_, she thought sourly as she studied Draco lying unconscious on the floor. _Now what to do with him?_

Striding over to one of the doors in the corridor, she flung it open, wincing as the door slammed against the wall. _Subtle, Hermione. _After checking to make sure the classroom was empty, she walked back over to Draco and unceremoniously dragged him in. His wand fell out of his grip and clattered on to the floor.

Hermione briefly toyed with the idea of stealing his wand, but decided against it. Draco would surely involve Umbridge, and considering her treatment of Harry, it was best not to risk it. She gritted her teeth and kicked Draco's wand into the classroom, then left, locking the door magically behind her. _Have fun getting out of there, Malfoy. I hope you meet Filch on the way out._

As she walked back to Gryffindor tower, Hermione couldn't help but feel a small surge of pride. _I should remember to thank Harry later – that DA practice really helped._ She smiled as she remembered the look on Draco's face as she stunned him. _Serves you right, Malfoy. It's about time you learned that you can't mess with me._

**A/N: My first fanfic! Just an idea that popped into my head the other day. Thanks for reading; it would be great if you could leave a review. Constructive criticism appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.**

Draco groaned and sat up slowly, trying to orientate himself.

He remembered standing in the corridor, watching Hermione. He had been nervous, on edge, unusual for him. A subtle shift in her posture, a small movement of her hand, had sent him reaching for his wand, acting on instinct. _Always strike first._

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_

"_Protego!"_

The spells had collided in mid-air, his spell rocketing off hers, smashing the window between them. He remembered standing frozen, feeling the cold wind howl through the window, unable to comprehend the fact the she had not tried to curse him, but that he… he had made a mistake.

After that, it was a blur – Hermione shouting, a burst of red light, the feeling of being punched in the chest, and then waking up in the darkness.

Draco reached into his pocket for his wand, but found it missing. Had she stolen it? That would be understandable, given the situation. A few minutes of searching and several stubbed toes later, he found it, slightly scuffed by thankfully unbroken, more than he had hoped for.

"_Lumos!"_

Light radiated out from his wand, showing him his surroundings. He was in classroom, the rows of desks now slightly haphazard from where he had knocked into them.

He tried the door, grimacing when he found it to be locked.

"_Alohomora_!"

The door swung open, and Draco stepped out into the corridor, ignoring the glances directed at him by a trio of Ravenclaws passing by. He noticed that the window was fixed, with no sign that it had ever been broken. Hermione's work, doubtless. He walked passed it, heading to the Great Hall.

_I should apologise to her_, he thought, but rejected that idea almost immediately. Trying to apologise was what had led to this problem in the first place.

An apology. That was all he had wanted to say to her. Things were different, now that the Dark Lord was back, and he just wanted to apologise to her, alone, before anything happened. He _couldn't_ talk to her in front of Potter or the Weasel; his pride simply wouldn't allow it. _And now she'll never want to talk with me alone again_.

Draco entered the Great Hall, and sat down next to Pansy at the Slytherin table. For the second time that day, he disregarded her, scanning the Gryffindor table, looking for Hermione. He spotted her, sitting next to Potter, facing him. When she noticed his gaze, she glared back for a moment, before shifting so that the Weasel blocked his line of sight.

_It's no use._ Whatever small amount of trust there was between them was gone now. What would an apology mean to her, anyway, in the face of what was going to happen? Nothing. Less than nothing. It would be best just to forget about it.

Hermione Granger, that talented Mudblood, had no place in his future. It was past time that he accepted that, and moved on.

He spared her another glance as he left the Great Hall, but nothing had changed. _Nothing will ever change._

She had chosen Potter, and he was committed to the Dark Lord. That was final, and there was no escaping that.

For now.

**A/N: Firstly, thank you to all of you who have read, reviewed and/or favourited this story! **

**This is the end of this story, so tell me what you think! A sequel might happen later, but no promises (sorry!). Constructive criticism appreciated!**


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